


You Are The Right One

by SweetDeath



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: 5, Angst, F/M, Fluff, High School, Ice Cream, M/M, Namimori - Freeform, Namimori High School, Other, Reader Insert, Reader-Insert, Romantic Tension, Sexual Tension, Song Lyrics, Song fic, Summer, Summer Vacation, gift for my love GA07~, good luck getting any coherent plot out of me lmao, i wrote this months ago but never finished until recently and i actually feel p good about this one!, reader - Freeform, uhhhhhh, what else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 10:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14616798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetDeath/pseuds/SweetDeath
Summary: Gokudera is sure what you mean to him. But what does he mean to you?[Song fic to You Are The Right One by Sports][dedicated to my lovely darling friend, ❤️ GuardianAngel07! (check her out y’all)]





	You Are The Right One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GuardianAngel07](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuardianAngel07/gifts).



> Hey im back from the uhhhhhh dead  
> I’ve not abandoned any fics im just in finals and tired and depressed as hell lmao but i got.... 12 days until im finally free....
> 
> This fic is for my dearest, darling, sweetheart GuardianAngel07!!!  
> You mean the absolute world to me !! I’m sorry I don’t have a sweeter fic for you, but anything with our boy Haya-chan is good, right? This turned out to be 19 pages on google docs so y i k e s but i hope you like it!!!!! I love you and I’m always cheering for you!! I know things will turn out great soon for you and I can’t WAIT to hear what great things you’ll achieve VERY soon!!<3 I’m never mad or anything when you can’t answer my messages because I know you have a lot going on, I just hope my messages and posts I send cheer you up!! You’re such a sweet person and I couldn’t ask for a better friend!! I’m SOOOO proud of you!! You’re doing your best and that’s all anyone could ever ask you!
> 
>  
> 
> In other news..  
> Uhh.... also I’ve been watching OK K.O. and ?? I’m in love? With them all?? Professor Venomous?? HOT. Raymond?? HOT. Lord Boxman? Not my type usually but he’s adorable and i’m Down. So expect some OK K.O. stuff soon, hopefully!!!! Though maybe not fluff?? I want a series but my friend is Thirsting Severely after that snake man and like me too so maybe some.... Not Pure stuff safhdjksh ok bye sorry 
> 
>  
> 
> This fic is to You Are The Right One by Sports!  
> This is posted on Luna but it’s in the queue so I think this will post first..... there’s a MUCH longer message for you on Luna!!

_ You were the right way _

_ I was just waiting for you to look at me _

_ Is there a wrong time? _

_ Baby, I’m guessing _

_ Just let me know _

  
  


He can never get a break, can he? Gokudera sighed, smoke curling past his lips into the chill autumn air. The leaves were just beginning to change color and he cursed how the light cast amber shadows over the smooth plane of your face, cursed how he couldn’t trace the honey light with his fingertips and kiss the darkness away. His tongue clicked against his teeth and he took another drag of his cigarette.

 

Hayato tried to ignore you. He really did. But how can he, when you look as good as you do with a rose-pink blush that covers your cheeks and ears when someone cracks a joke that makes you laugh until you can barely catch your breath? How your jaw drops open in delight before you remember where you are and hide your smile with your hand– something he desperately hoped you would lose the habit of because, god, did you look pretty when you smiled– and blot away the joyful tears in your eyes? How could he not give you his complete, undivided attention when you were as sugar-sweet as you were? 

 

His jade eyes flickered back to you again, almost against his will. Your face was bright, eyes glinting in the soft light of the dying afternoon as you teased one of your friends, grinning widely as they swiped playfully at you in return. Gokudera groaned and his head slumped back against the pillar he was leaning against a  _ little _ too quick, sending an unpleasant shock up his spine. 

 

“Shit,” he hissed, stomping out his cigarette on the concrete behind Namimori High and massaging the back of his skull gingerly. What a day.

 

First, Tsuna and Yamamoto had nearly been killed on their way to school again; of course, Gokudera saved both of them, although Yamamoto he saved slightly more reluctantly. Gokudera was strong– of course he was, he wasn’t Tsuna’s right hand for nothing. He just wished he could prove to you that he was strong enough for you, too… 

 

Then,  _ that _ bastard that patrolled the school like some kind of obsessive freak was on his back again. Something about being late for class. Reborn showed up and solved the matter rather quickly, but that didn’t keep Gokudera from steaming out the ears for another hour or so.

 

But the worst part of the day? It was definitely you, without a doubt. You filled his head, turning his thoughts and coherency to cotton in his head and made his mouth as dry as summer. Summer… Gokudera remembered, during lunch period, that you had gone to the beach with him and his friends. 

  
  


You wore a red bathing suit. Red as the fireworks at the summer festival, where he almost told you his feelings but panicked at the last second– but that was a story for another time–and, at one point, clung to his arm to whine about how hot the sun was, and how you were definitely going to get a sunburn. When Gokudera grumbled something back to you about reapplying sunscreen you had winked at him, grinning wide and asking if he wanted to help you with that. By then, there was no doubt in his mind that his milky skin was as red as your bathing suit. From his blushing, dazed haze, you managed to squeeze a frozen lemonade and a plain vanilla ice cream out of him and his wallet. 

 

“Share?” you gently cocked your head to one side and held out the icy drink for Gokudera to taste. His mouth was incredibly dry, as it always seemed to be around you– damn you, and damn him for being so weak for you– and he hesitated. You sipped your lemonade languidly and blinked up at him, heavy eyelashes fluttering and all doe-eyed, and his chest clenched in such a way that it brought him agony and ecstasy in equal measure.

 

“Hm?” you hummed, waiting for an answer. He opened his mouth to deny your offer when a heavy stream of melted ice cream rolled down the side of the cone and over your hand. A surprised yelp and a curse left your throat as you hurried to clean the treat off of the cone. When you switched the cone to your other hand to lick the drops of vanilla from your palm, Gokudera’s brain snapped back to being fully functional and he hurriedly agreed to sharing with you. 

 

As you complained once again about the heat and the lack of more interesting ice cream flavors at the snack bar, Gokudera thought of how silly he was being for thinking of sharing the ice cream as an indirect kiss– an indirect  _ tongue _ kiss, more accurately. But more honestly, it was more like the two of you just swapped spit–but that’s not a very pleasant thing to think of, no matter how much he liked you.

 

He wasn’t in middle school anymore; he shouldn’t be so swayed by this! He shouldn’t feel so hot and his heart shouldn’t be beating so fast. A cool ocean breeze swept your hair away from your face as you shook ice chunks in your frozen lemonade, loosening them enough to drink. Gokudera turned his gaze to the clear blue sea, his friends wading in it, and the lazy scrawl of puffy white clouds across the sky and he wondered if he could gather the courage to ask for a sip of the lemonade, too. If he was only going to get an indirect kiss, he wanted a proper one.

 

Slowly coming out of his reverie, Gokudera realized he had been looking at you the whole time. The shade that Namimori cast over him wasn’t enough to cool his embarrassed blush and he hoped you hadn’t noticed. Gokudera nearly jumped out of his skin when something in his pocket buzzed. He fished out his phone– obviously, of course it was his phone. He must be more tired than he thought, to be startled by his own phone.

 

**[Baseball Freak]**

_ whatcha lookin at? _

 

Snapping his head up, Gokudera scanned his surroundings, looking for any sign of Yamamoto. God, how embarrassing to be caught staring at his crush by the person most likely to tease him about it…

 

**[Baseball Freak]**

 

_ up here _

 

Yamamoto was leaning out of one of the windows of a classroom far above Gokudera’s head, waving at him without a care in the world. It was then that Gokudera remembered why he was waiting outside at all, staring at you so wistfully– Tsuna and Takeshi had to attend an after school remedial session for their poor grades… No matter how many tutoring sessions they both received from Reborn and Hayato and a variety of other eccentric characters that always seemed to appear out of nowhere, they still couldn’t retain anything they learned… especially not math.

 

Shaking his head angrily, the silver haired boy punched out a response to him but his phone buzzed again before he could send it.

 

**[Baseball Freak]**

 

_ see something over there u like? I think u do~~~ aren’t they just sooo cute?? >///7///<   <3 _

 

Gokudera bit his tongue. How dare Yamamoto say that about you?! It was true, he had to admit, but his pride was hurt from being so easily caught, heart read with such dead-on accuracy that he responded the only way he knew how to.

 

**[Me]**

_ PISS OFF _

 

A rich laugh filled the air above him and only served to spur Gokudera on, cracking his knuckles, clenching his jaw, and wishing he could beat Takeshi into taking what he said back.

 

**[Baseball Freak]**

 

_ u know, if u don’t make a move, someone else will………….they’re so pretty and smart and nice!! who wouldn’t want to date them?~ _

 

Gokudera’s rage calmed, eerily still. He knew that someone would make a move on you if he didn’t soon. He didn’t miss the way that the boys in the class would offer to carry your bags and would do anything to get just a little closer to you to sling their arms around your shoulders, pretending to show you something in a book, and to breathe in your light perfume. Or the way that girls would bite their lips and giggle when you told a joke and how they would bat their eyelashes and tease you and play with your hair just a  _ little _ too much for it to be considered strictly friendly. Hayato knew he wasn’t the only person looking to add you to his dating pool and he also knew he wasn’t the best candidate to win your heart.

 

It was a subject that often haunted his brain late at night, a miasma of doubt and self-hatred that cut deep into his heart when no one was there to see him cry. He was too loud, too violent, and too crude for someone like you to fall for. Too  _ dangerous _ . It didn’t help that Yamamoto was the polar opposite of him– warm, friendly, and kind enough to be anyone’s dream man. And it definitely didn’t help that Yamamoto often wrapped his arm around your shoulders and brought you into his chest when there was nothing else for him to do with his hands. That happened often and made Gokudera more broken hearted than he would ever admit.

 

**[Baseball Freak]**

_ so? r u gonna say anything to them???? _

 

Gokudera had his heart set on you but his brain told him, quite logically, that you would never like someone like him back. Whoever said that it’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all was a damn fool.

 

**[Me]**

_ mind ur business. _

 

Up above, there was a sigh loud enough for Gokudera to hear and he knew instantly that he had made the wrong move. He looked up just in time to hear Yamamoto call your name in a sing-songy voice, to see him through weak, orange sun rays, waving cheerfully at you. Gokudera snapped his gaze to you to see your hair bounce with each cute head turn as you looked for the source of the voice. Yamamoto called your name again and Gokudera registered that not only had he used your  _ first _ name but he added a “-chan” to the end of it– what a double-crossing bastard!

 

You found him and Hayato’s lungs felt tight, but not as a result of his chain-smoking. Your face lit up–your pretty, beautiful, drop-dead gorgeous face– and you yelled back a greeting and swung your arms around wildly back at Takeshi, heels lifting off the ground in delight with your ministrations.

 

Hayato’s gaze flickered back up to Takeshi just in time to see the brunet pointing down at him vigorously. Your sight followed Takeshi’s direction and you locked gazes with Hayato. His breath caught somewhere between his throat and chest and his heart pounded against his ribcage, furiously trying to escape this terribly humiliating situation.

 

_ Just let me know _

  
  


__ As soon as you saw him, your eyes widened slightly and you gave him an embarrassed, genuine smile as you tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. It was strange; he didn’t think that you had anything to be embarrassed about. You were deathly adorable when excited, even if it was because you were excited to see that baseball idiot.

 

He hoped to whatever higher being that was out there– and he knew something was out there: aliens, at least– that he hadn’t imagined that sweet, pink blush that dusted your cheeks and ears and ran down your neck. He was smiling back at you, equally as shyly, before he knew it.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ Well, it’s been a long time _

_ Since you’ve been lonely _

_ So what will I do? _

_ You are the right one _

_ And I’m just a boy who _

_ Is looking at you _

  
  
  
  


“Hey, Hayato?” you called. His spine straightened, vertebra by vertebra, at the sound of your voice. You had used his first name– sure, you had been doing it for a while, but still every time you called him so endearingly, it sent hot, smoky electricity up his spine. The way the bed sheets creased under your small body and lazy afternoon sunlight dappled your visage had his head reeling. There you were, lounging and at peace with the world, in his apartment, in his  _ bed _ .

 

“What?”

He didn’t mean to sound so brusque– but then again, he doesn’t mean many of the things he says with his angry disposition. Especially to you.

 

“Why do you turn down everyone that confesses to you? Don’t you want to… well… I don’t know, fool around with someone? I mean, we’re in highschool, this is supposed to be the most reckless time of our lives, right? Why not live a little?” Your head tilted to the side, hair falling into your eyes. His fingers itched to brush it out of your face and your own fingers played with something on your phone. Probably texting, some faceless guy or girl, flirting, playing coy and–

 

“Hayato?” He shivered, loving how his name sounded on your soft lips.

 

“I don’t know, idiot. I’m mean, but not mean enough to do something like that to some kid stupid enough to think they like me.” He settles for brushing his own hair out of his face. 

 

You turn over on your stomach, “I guess…”

 

Something about your tone when you say that makes Gokudera narrow his eyes in suspicion. Did something happen to you to make you upset? Why were you bringing up this topic now? Why were you bringing it up to  _ him _ ?

 

“I just think it’s a waste, y’know?” you ran a hand through your hair and locked your phone, placing it to the side. Your eyes slid closed and Hayato realized how close your head was to his lap, how easily he could pet your hair and have you doze off in his embrace. You looked sleepy enough anyway– would a little nap hurt the both of you?

 

“Hayato, don’t you know how  _ handsome _ you are?” you mumbled dreamily. “You could get anyone you want,  _ anyone _ , and you chose to sit here and do nothing. Why?”

 

Hayato couldn’t think. His head was full of steel wool and his blood thrummed loudly through him. You called him handsome.  _ You called him handsome. _ When his breath came back to him in a barely noticeable gasp, he couldn’t filter the words that tumbled out of his mouth.

 

“I can’t.”

 

“What?” your eyes slowly opened and you leaned up on an elbow, looking quizzically up at him.

 

“I can’t get anyone I want.”

 

“Why not?”

 

His lungs filled shallowly and he turned his face away from you, focusing on the empty street below, through his room’s window. The sun cast golden light and deep, lavender shadows across the world and Hayato knew that if he looked at you right now, everything would go to shit. He’d see your face; all the perfections and beautiful flaws and you would see through him as if he were glass blown, see how desperate he was for you and how his insides were twisting and trembling in fear and reverence, in equal measure, of your power over him. You would recoil, disgust drawn over your lovely face in terribly sharp lines and you would see how his heart would break over and over again.

 

“Sometimes you just can’t.”

 

Your lips curled into a frown and his brows furrowed; he could tell that much by your silence. Unsatisfied with his answer, you huffed and threw yourself back down on the bed, the crown of your head knocking against his thigh. Your hair splayed out around your face, angelic, and Hayato was lucky that your eyes had once again shut to accept the call of the dream world, because if they hadn’t, you would’ve seen how absolutely helpless he looked, gazing at you.

  
  


_ So what will I do? _

 

__ His tongue darted out to smooth over his dry lower lip and he felt the faint sting of the thin skin there– cracked. He tasted iron and swallowed thickly. Gokudera wished he was closer to you, so much closer to you than he was, but he was doubtful his heart would be able to handle that.

 

Your breathing started to slow and Hayato found his hand smoothing over your soft hair and you jolted violently, startling the both of you. You stared up at him, eyes full of stars and planets far away, and he laughed airily. He shook his head, silently telling you, _ No, don’t wake up just yet, everything’s fine.  _ You accepted this without question and closed your eyes again.

 

This time, Hayato gently slid his hands under your head and guided you towards his lap. He arranged himself comfortably on an array of flattened pillows and stroked your hair as you lay, safe and happy in his lap. A single eye peeked at him– slyly, cat-like– before you hummed and shifted closer to him.

 

A contented sigh slipped through Hayato’s lips and he himself started to feel drowsy. In his dreamy stupor, his hand trailed down your face, down your neck, and down, down your arm until he had your fingers gently entwined with his. 

 

Sure, it may have just been an unconscious reaction, but the way your hand squeezed his back made his dreams lovely and surreal and hallucinatory, in all the best ways.

  
  


_ I tried the wrong way _

_ I was guessing  _

_ Biding my time _

_ You are the only _

_ One I can picture _

_ By my side _

  
  


__ “Gokudera, what’s up?” Takeshi nodded at the silver-haired bomber as he approached, strangely insightful today with his clear, milk chocolate eyes. The boy in question merely grumbled vaguely, hands shoved deep in his pockets, as if he was fishing for the answer to Yamamoto’s question down there as well. 

 

“That bad, huh?”

 

Gokudera rolled his eyes. It wasn’t rare for him and Yamamoto to arrive at Tsuna’s house before the young mafia boss could flee from it, already anxious and sweaty. Today was no different.

 

“Hey, at least you tried, right?” Yamamoto offered a weak smile, knowing how much you meant to Gokudera. His shoulders were hiked up to his ears and Takeshi didn't miss how the hot, red ring on Gokudera’s cigarette quickly crawled down to the filter before he was tapping out another from his near-empty box and sucking on the new cigarette, lighting it with the dying butt of the used one. 

 

He tossed the old one down and ground it into the asphalt. Takeshi frowned. The baseball star shifted the bag on his shoulder uncomfortably, his bats for after school practice clinking metallically.

 

“ … I didn't.” Gokudera kept his gaze locked on a lamp post down the block. Takeshi blinked, not expecting a response from Gokudera’s sunken frame. “What?”

 

“I didn't try.”

 

It took Takeshi a moment to understand what Gokudera meant before grimacing with a little more than a dash of friendly pity in his eyes. He shifted his weight from his hip, seeking to comfort Gokudera, but decided against it at the last moment. 

“Why?” his voice came out in a gentle rasp. Gokudera still refused to look at him, green eyes clouded and trained on a particularly colorful poster on that singular lamp post.

 

Seconds ticked by before Hayato groaned and dragged a hand down his face, pinching his cigarette in frustration with his other hand. 

“I can’t! I just can’t. I know they don’t feel the same and I know I’ll break if they have to say it to my face. I can’t handle that. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to handle that. God, Yamamoto, I just can’t take that chance.”

 

Being around them is– it’s just too much and too little for me to take– I’m going crazy here, driving myself in circles and spinning out, spinning my goddamn wheels because of them. It’s fuckin’ sickening but I don’t want a cure. I feel so helpless and I hate it, I never want to feel this way again. What the hell did I do to deserve this?”

 

Gokudera’s eyes snapped shut, face contorted in agony. “I can’t tell them. I can’t. I want them to be happy. It’s better this way anyway. I’m not good enough.”

 

Gokudera’s voice cracked on his last word before his declaration faded into the morning’s stillness. Yamamoto was insulted– his best friend talking about himself this way? Not in a million years, if he had any say in it– but Gokudera snapped at him before he could get a word in.

 

“And don’t say shit about me being good enough, because we both know I’m not good enough for  _ them _ . I’ll never be good enough, Yamamoto, that’s not me. I wouldn’t be able to hold them as much as I should, to kiss their gorgeous fucking face– I wouldn’t be able to be fucking _ honest _ , Takeshi. They deserve more than the bullshit excuses I’d spew to cover our fucking asses when we get the crap kicked out of us on a bi-weekly basis. They don’t deserve that.”

 

Silence weighed like velvet over the two of them and the sun was now calling out songbirds, sleepy murmurs from the neighborhood beginning to wake from the heavy slumber of the night. Yamamoto didn’t know what to say anymore and Gokudera put the cigarette back where it belonged: between his lips, funneling poison straight to his lungs.

 

“ … I don’t think it’s like that, Hayato. You’re being too harsh on yourself. I really don’t think they feel that way about you.”

 

Hayato said nothing and kept his eyes glued to that single poster again. Yamamoto reached out and awkwardly patted his shoulder, mustering as much comfort as he could before he knew he would overstay his welcome. Hayato needed time to clear his head.

 

“ … I’ll go inside to check up on Tsuna. Come inside soon, alright?” The response that didn’t meet him was enough to know Gokudera wouldn’t get better as quick as that. Takeshi sighed in sorrowful compassion before slowly making his way to Tsuna’s front door, carefully piecing together his cheerful mask yet again. The door shut quietly, and voices and vague, worrisome sounds came from within.

 

Gokudera raised his hand to scrub furiously at his misty eyes, his bracelets clinking together and rings scraping his face and leaving thin, red lines around his eyes. He leaned back against the wall around his best friend’s house and his head banged against the concrete, painful and painfully familiar to something that had happened recently, involving you.

 

“Fuck,” he hissed into the empty street.

  
  
  
  


Class was boring, as it always was. There was nothing that could entertain him that was in Namimori’s curriculum. Tsuna managed to convince Gokudera to take college classes too, so that his development wouldn’t stall (and also because Gokudera being bored meant a bit more trouble for Tsuna, but he was genuinely concerned about Gokudera’s personal growth). But even those classes were much too easy for him. 

 

Something that wasn’t easy? Seeing you every damn day and not being able to do a thing about it. Getting closer, getting further, cutting you off completely– he couldn’t bring himself to do any of those. 

 

Gokudera tapped the eraser end of his pencil against his desk and sighed, staring out the classroom window into the clear blue sky. He couldn’t wait for summer again but, boy, did he like seeing you all bundled up in wool and cashmere and simply  _ drowning _ in soft fabrics and cozy patterns. You were so cute with your nose red from the cold, lips burning pink from being bitten so much– he wouldn’t admit it to anyone, no, he would take this to his grave– but what he wouldn’t give to be the one to bite your lips instead, to hear you whimper and moan, just for him, and–

 

A small collision with the side of his head brought him out of his daydreams. Curious and annoyed, Hayato brought a hand up to his hair and picked out a crumpled wad of paper. Who the hell had the balls to throw shit at him? He was still the scariest guy in Namimori (and  _ no _ , Hibari doesn’t count, either). If anything, he should be terrorizing the rest of the class.

 

Taking a less than subtle glance around the room, he caught your eyes staring at him eagerly. Taking a moment to compose himself, he averted his gaze to your note instead. Of course it was you that threw it at him. Who else?

 

_ Wanna go to a bakery after school? Kyoko-chan was talking about it earlier and I can’t get it out of my head… I’ll pay if u want!! I want cake~~~ _

 

Hayato didn’t hold back the happy grin that spread over his face, sparing a glance at you, impatiently waiting for his reply, before scribbling something in his mostly neat penmanship under your barely legible chicken scratch.

 

_ No need to pay. But yeah, that sounds p cool. Meet me right after school at the front gates? _

 

The teacher still had his back turned to the class, writing something that Gokudera already knew on the blackboard, droning on and on about logs and bases and inverses and irrational numbers or something equally useless. He knocked his hand back and threw from the shoulder, the small, now neatly folded note landing in the middle of your desk.

 

You snatched it up quickly, hiding it just in time for the teacher to turn around and call on one of your classmates to answer a question. Gokudera couldn’t see you unfold the note but your arms were moving under the desk and you grabbed a pencil off the desk too.

 

Gokudera remembered that pencil; it was thin, cute, and pink– with a brown bear on top. The bear held a red heart and its nose was in the same cute shape. There were patterns of hearts and stars in red and yellow and white, and Gokudera knew all of this because Kyoko had helped him pick it out to give it to you for your birthday. He thought giving you a gift with so many hearts was a bit forward– tactless,  even– but Kyoko gave him a stern look and told him that nothing he could do would be forward enough when it came to you and, spluttering and flushed, he tried to deny his affections for you but only ended up confessing how he felt about you to Kyoko. Smiling gently like the angel she is, Kyoko let him talk her ear off about you for nearly an hour and a half. She earned a milkshake and a slice of strawberry cake for her bravery.

 

You spun in your chair, clutching the edge of it in your small hand, and flicked the paper back to him. The message was a little more timid, he noticed.

 

_ Actually, can we meet on the roof after school?.. I have something I want to talk to u about, but it shouldn’t take long… We can go straight to the bakery if u don’t want to, tho!!!!! ^v^;; _

 

Gokudera recognized how you were trying to hide something from him with your overwhelming facade of consideration. Whenever you felt insecure about something, you always spent time making sure other people felt more comfortable and happy than you were, as if that would make you feel better yourself. A frown carried over his pale face and when he looked up, you were staring at him again. This time, you seemed to have carefully examined his face and your brows were furrowed. As soon as you met his eyes, you jumped, shaking your head and waving your hands to tell him, ‘Don’t mind me, it’s nothing.’

 

Gokudera was just about to pen down a reply when the teacher turned around again and began talking to the class, not looking like he was going to turn his back on Gokudera any time soon. Hayato caught your eyes with his green ones and nodded quickly, mouthing ‘ _ I’ll be there. _ ’

  
  


Lunch was as it normally was. That is, filled with shouts and explosions and general chaos. However, this lunch period was noisier than it previously had been; a fact that only would have been noticed by the people present if they paid very careful attention to their volume. Gokudera noticed.

 

Damn right, he noticed. Sure, you usually sat next to Takeshi. Sure, you had a habit of clinging to him as you laughed and whispering in his ear. And sure, sometimes you would call him Take-chan as you fed him bits of your own bentou– a fact that pissed Gokudera off endlessly. 

 

But what was different?

 

Today you were nestled in Yamamoto’s side, tucked neatly away under his arm which alternated from wrapping around your shoulders to hold you to him and pulling you in by your waist to bring you nearly onto his lap. It stung Gokudera something awful. Watching the two of you laugh and whisper to each other felt like you had run Hayato’s heart over shrapnel and soothed his wounds with lemon and salt. He averted his jealous, but startlingly gentle gaze from you to the sky above you, willing tears not to come and cursing himself for feeling this way about you.

 

“Hey, Take-chan!” You tugged on his shirt, the fabric over his chest, to bring his attention back to you.

 

“Hmm?”

 

You stole a glance at Gokudera and whispered giddily into Yamamoto’s ear. When you’re finished, Yamamoto made a sound that can only be described as pure elation, and he tugged you in even closer, tickling you in the process.

 

You laughed and shrieked at him to stop and he only did so when you’re nearly in tears. Tsuna is having a muted conversation with Gokudera and he is trying to pay attention– honest– Gokudera is trying so goddamn hard, but it’s next to impossible when a grass-green snake hisses low in his belly over you writhing and laughing so happily in Takeshi’s lap.

 

Yamamoto whispered hotly back into your ear and Gokudera sees something he wished he would never see from the two of you: you, with a hot blush crawling up your neck and Takeshi with his face practically in the crook of it, grinning all pearly white and eyes staring at you with such fucking dedicated tunnel vision. Gokudera wasn’t hungry anymore. 

 

Lunch ended and you gave Yamamoto one last quick hug before cleaning up your trash and putting everything away that you wanted to keep. Gokudera was slower than normal, taking all the time in the world and then some to get ready for class again. The door to the roof clanged shut and Gokudera let out a heavy sigh, eyes closed and trying to feel everything that he could– everything except his feelings, that is.

 

He relished the cool breath of wind that blew against his face, tossing his hair around and whistling softly to him. He took account of the ground beneath him, hard and sturdy, and the sounds of teenagers filtering back into the school, complaining about their classes and each other. The one thing he didn’t hear–not until it was too late– was you.

 

“Hayato?” you tugged on the back of his shirt, scaring him witless. He yelped like a kicked puppy and spun around to face you, composure long lost. He tried to say something but nothing left his lips; nothing coherent, at least.

 

The hand that grasped his shirt didn’t cease touching him. It got even closer than before as you took a step, and then another, into his personal space. The height difference between you was just too much for him to handle and Gokudera felt himself simultaneously trying to pale and flush, unsure which won over in the end.

 

Your hand slid along his waist, his side, and up his chest lightly. The smile that took root on your face was weak and bashful, even– and you bumped your forehead on his chest before you looked back up at him, an emotion he didn’t recognize dancing in your eyes.

 

“Don’t forget, we’re meeting here after school, Hayato. You wouldn’t want to keep me waiting, would you?” Your finger tapped his chest teasingly, adding another beat to his pulse and he felt fire crawl up the base of spine at your nail scraping through his shirt.

 

You blinked curiously up at him and his voice whispered to you, hoarse and against his will, “No, I wouldn’t.”

 

Satisfied with that, you made sure that he had everything he had brought up to the roof with him, promptly forced him to offer his elbow to you, and curled yourself happily over his arm before leading the both of you down the stairs to finish the rest of the day’s lessons.

  
  
  
  
  


The roof was empty except for Gokudera. As soon as school was over, he bid Tsuna and Yamamoto goodbye, telling them not to wait up for him. Yamamoto had a big, stupid grin on his face–  _ But when does he not?  _ Gokudera rationalized. There was something about that smile that showed that he knew more than he let on but Gokudera was much too preoccupied with thoughts of you to care.

 

He leaned against the rails, not trusting it to hold him, careful not to put too much weight on it. He took a steadying breath. 

 

Breathe.

 

It’s fine.

 

Nothing’s wrong.

 

But no matter what he told himself to stop the rapid, staccato drumming in his chest, his anxieties were not relieved in the slightest. He was afraid– god, how he was afraid. What did you want to talk to him about? Did you not want to be friends anymore? Did you grow tired of him? Did… 

 

Did you want to tell him you were dating Takeshi?

 

“Hayato?”

 

**Oh fuck**

 

Gokudera jumped. The amount of times you scared him witless was embarrassingly high. “Hey.”

 

You smiled slightly. “Hey.” 

 

Something about you was different. Something was… off. The way your eyes drifted from him every other second before coming back to his concerned gaze was unusual, but even more unusual was the way your hands fidgeted behind your back.

 

“So,” Hayato tried to get the words to come out. The light breeze that tossed your hair around your face in a halo didn’t help much, but he appreciated it anyway. “What’d you wanna talk about? I’m hungry as fuck.” 

 

It slipped out– Hayato’s cursing habit hijacked his mouth, nerves making him go on autopilot. At least you took it well; your eyes glinted in amusement and some of the tension between the two of you dissipated.

 

A pink tongue darted out to soothe your dry lips and Hayato was a little too aware of it. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something for a while, but I just didn’t know how to tell you– it’s a bit… embarrassing, so don’t make fun of me, okay?” Your mouth was set in a firm line, eyes pleading and vulnerable. 

 

“Sure.”

 

That wasn’t the reply you wanted but it was what it was.

 

_ By my side _

  
  


“I…” you began, then lost the words you had planned.

 

“You?..” Gokudera offered. He wasn’t sure he was ready for what you wanted to tell him or what it entailed, but he was sure that if it meant your happiness, he would do anything at all to keep you smiling.

 

“It’s just that… You know, I–” you fumble over your words, frustration visible on your face. Gokudera scolded himself for thinking of you in this way when you so clearly don’t want him but he can’t help it. He’s worried over your affect on him before, but he never considered how weak he is to you or how strong your natural beauty is under the glow of a late afternoon and the crinkle of your brow with your courageous efforts… courageous efforts that you try to spell out but they fail, perched above your tongue. 

Your soft hands come down in frustration upon the hem of your shirt and you try again, slip again, and Gokudera is privy to the realization that this isn’t something he should take lightly any longer, no matter how much it calms his nerves or keeps him from facing the possible reality of him losing you. He leans forward to grasp your hands from distressing your shirt, to keep you from distressing yourself, with full knowledge that this moment could be the end of you allowing him to be graced with your presence. Hayato decided that your momentary comfort before unleashing hell on him was worth more than a thousand lifetimes of you by his side in the masquerade mask of lukewarm passion if you backed down from rejecting him now.

 

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

 

And he touched you and nearly recoiled when your face whipped up to meet his, nearly let go of you because your skin was hot as forged iron and nearly as red. He tried to let go but you wouldn’t stand for it, as you used his hands over your shoulders as leverage to place your palms, clammy and shaking, over his smooth cheekbones and bring his face down to yours.

 

Hayato’s eyes were wide as he met your lips, glossed and smooth and clearly prepped for this specific moment, specific kiss, specifically with  _ him _ and he could have withered away in embarrassment of his rough mouth and nicotine lungs if it weren’t for how warm you were against him and how securely you held him, despite how insecure you had been seconds prior. Gokudera barely has the brains left to close his eyes on the skyline of Namimori but when he does he sees stars and he kisses you back and there’s a scrape of his teeth against your bottom lip and you shiver and he groans into you and now he’s just as red, if not redder, than you are.

 

A slick noise of separation, then the both of you don’t know how to deal with the awkward intimacy of it, or what to do with your hands, but Hayato managed to gather enough sense– or maybe he’s running on what he’s fantasized on doing after your first kiss together and is on a daydream-guided autopilot– and he brings you into a tight hug and buried his head into your wild hair. You laugh into his chest and when he tried to bring you out to ask you why, you clung to his wrinkled white shirt even more and blindly found his hands, tangled with his bracelets and rings, then laced your fingers soundly with his.

 

Gokudera can hardly believe the kiss happened, can believe he’s still alive even less, but he’s sure you can hear the quickened palpitations of his heart and that notion does no good for his health either. You’re an absolute dream and Gokudera is ready and happy to die right there, but you pull away from him, hands still interwoven, and smile so beautifully that he is sure that angels exist and you’re the vision of seraphim, disguised as human so barely that if you were anymore angelic he would surely fall dead where he stood, kiss-dizzy and sweetly dazed.

 

From his dazed mouth, stupidity falls out. “So what was it that you had to tell me?”

 

You laugh and press a kiss– more confidently this time– to his collarbone. At his affirmative, stuttered, elated hum, you press another and another, up his neck and jawline and chin until you reach his lips again and he kisses you back with adoration and love and his still evolving understanding of your feelings for him.

 

“I’m not sure how to say it any clearer,” you said with a laugh that rang like the church bells that sounded in Gokudera’s head as clearly as he imaged they would on your wedding day, as he pressed his own kisses all over your face and held you close with the intention of treasuring you as long as he had a pulse and then some. “Hayato, I really,  _ really _ like you.”

 

And that was the day that Gokudera Hayato had come to face the reality, one that he had long accepted, that he loved you more than anything and you felt the same, but most importantly, that you were the right one for him. And that he was the right one for you. 


End file.
